Visiting the Hospital
Daniel had been very determined to see Sam, judging from his prompt appearance at the front of the music store before the appointed time wrapped in his usual dark coat and unremarkable slacks, but his expression was tight and he fidgeted in the passenger seat the entire way there. He completely ignored Iris as if she was a spot of unsightly rust or debris in the back of the car, hunched down so that his profile was barely visible and the passing light coming through the window knifed across his face at irregular moments. He had brought no presents, and looked with interest and tentative approval at Louis' festive packages.
Upon arrival, it took Daniel a solid thirty seconds to work up the courage to force himself out of the car and into the dubious city night, imagining he could feel the light pollution and trying not to think about the bleach and the blood that he could smell in the building ahead. He let Louis lead and Iris follow, casting her a look closer to morose than to threatening, and hunched as deep into his coat as he could without pulling it up over his head.
"I hate hospitals," Daniel said to no one, watching the automatic doors slide open and closed on various visitors while Louis talked to the receptionist.